


𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐚. [𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬]

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anorexia, Borderline Personality Disorder, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Daydreaming, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fanfiction, Multiple Endings, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Reader Insert, Self-Acceptance, Self-Harm, Self-Insert, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trust Issues, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: [ various!seijoh x bpd!fem!reader ]‒ 𝙣𝙚·𝙛𝙚·𝙡𝙞·𝙗𝙖·𝙩𝙖 (noun)" 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 ; 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘳. "many would say that she wasn't always completely there in the head. her mind created fantasies, caught up in an ever-elusive daydream. the future scared her, and she wished to stay in her little world, locked away from society.maybe it was a prison, one where reality blended in with her deepest desires. she couldn't notice the chains of her mind holding her down, killing her slowly. she believed she was in heaven,but she was trapped in hell.orby the end of her final year, reader befriends a group of wild, hormonal teenage boys. along the way, she learns how to trust and move on from the past. oh, and did i mention that she has bpd? yeah, she has bpd. whoops.© 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘦 / 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦.
Relationships: Aobajousai Volleyball Club & Reader, Aobajousai Volleyball Club/Reader, Hanamaki Takahiro/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Reader, Kunimi Akira/Reader, Kyoutani Kentarou & Reader, Matsukawa Issei/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Sugawara Koushi & Reader, Watari Shinji & Reader, Yahaba Shingeru/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	1. 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡.

_the sun is high  
and i'm surrounded by sand  
for as far as my eyes can see._

_i'm strapped  
into a rocking chair  
with a blanket over my knees._

_i am a **stranger to myself**  
and nobody knows  
i'm here._

_when i looked into my face,  
it wasn't **myself** i'd seen,  
but who **i've tried to be.**_

_i'm thinking of things i'd hoped to **forget.**  
i'm choking to **death**  
in a sun that never sets._

_i clogged up my mind with perpetual grief  
and turned all my **friends**  
into **enemies**_

_and now  
that past has returned  
to **haunt** me._

_I'M SCARED OF **GOD**  
AND SCARED OF **HELL**  
AND I'M CAVING IN UPON MYSELF_

_HOW CAN ANYONE_  
_**KNOW ME**  
WHEN I DON'T EVEN KNOW_ _**MYSELF.**_

**\- José Ángel Mañas**


	2. 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢.

_i wish i had a map of **my mind** ,_

_so i could find a way_

_through my thoughts_

_without getting **lost**_

_in **a field of daydreams.**_

**\- Kristen Costello**


	3. 𝟎𝟏 / 𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐚.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we are introduced to our protagonist, a daydreaming girl with trust issues and an unstable personality, as she is presented with a life-changing opportunity...

_**DAYDREAMING HAD ALWAYS BEEN A** favorite past time of (y/n)'s. To her, she found immense pleasure in escaping into the depths of her mind. Creating new, extravagant worlds, only to break them down and build them again. The possibilities were endless, which was one of the many reasons (y/n) enjoyed it so much._

_She could be a damsel in distress, awaiting her prince or princess to rescue her from her tower. A celebrity whose name was known across seas, or even a farmer living in humble solace on a ranch in the middle of rolling fields._

_It was a sensation she couldn't describe, one that she could never get over. The unexplainable rush of euphoria the coursed through her veins, the heavy pounding of her heart in excitement. (y/n) called it her drug, for she was too nervous to participate in them herself. She became hooked on the thrills it gave her. Like most addictions, it was an unhealthy obsession—that she knew very well—and yet, she couldn't seem to quit it._

_In a way, it was quite isolating. To be stuck in one's own mind, with nothing but their pitiful desires and fantasies, was a troubling revelation for (y/n) to discover. She wasn't sure if she should've been mad at the world or herself for letting her sink to such lows. To succumb to a court of royals, the jester of their amusement._

**_to be one with the dirt, that akin to her worth._ **

_Was it her fault? She had built her own walls so high that light ceased to peak over them, shrouding her in darkness. It was a prison, but a pleasant one. She didn't mind being chained to the hauntings of her past, as she made no efforts to run away. In her little cage, she need not worry about interpersonal drama or maintaining social status._

_All the same, she wouldn't have been like this if society's overwhelming expectations of her were obsolete. (y/n) was disgusted by the celebrities, how society tried to play them up as being better than. Everybody was fake. Carbon copies of one another, built on the failure of those who came before. All they desired was attention, hungry for money and fame._

_But no matter how much they infuriated her, (y/n) couldn't seem to bring herself to hate them completely. Her opinion on them was like a simple pendulum, constantly rocking back and forth from one extreme to the other. They shared similar ideals, fantasies, desires—a common thread between the two. And no matter how sickly thin or lustfully plastic, she always found herself eyeing the runway models with envy._

**_in her eyes, they were perfect._ **

_She wanted to be like them, beautiful, even if they embodied the very thing she despised. Whenever she looked in a mirror, all (y/n) could see was them in comparison to herself. Anytime she passed a stranger on the streets or in the hall, she couldn't help but do the same. She noticed the smallest of insecurities, every little mistake._

**_she was imperfect._ **

_In the back of her mind, a thought lingered. Perhaps her peers viewed her all the same, critical eyes constantly watching her every movement. Judging her as she would them. They fed her desires to be better—to fly high above the rest. But because of this skewed view of what she considered perfection, (y/n) had nobody to share her thoughts with._

_Instead, she created her own company in her daydreams—those who she called her "_ **_friends_ ** _"._ **_They_ ** _provided for her needs, albeit not physically, and were unrivaled in charm. To (y/n),_ **_they_ ** _never made any mistakes. Every move was carefully crafted, every word said holding importance and meaning._ **_They_ ** _had no flaws, committed no wrong-doings, and never fell out of line._

**_perfect_ ** **.**

_To (y/n), physical relationships were meaningless. How could one compare to the likes of_ **_them_ ** _? In all essence, they couldn't. For_ **_they_ ** _weren't human, as_ **_they_ ** _were simply husk shells of what once remained. She didn't need real people, those who claim to be your friend before stabbing you ruthlessly in the back._

**_friend._ **

_That was a word she seldom used. At a point in time, she had many friends. They treated her kindly, provided her support and reassurance, and gave her space when requested. (y/n) could never deny the things that they did, but it was what they didn't do that sent her spiraling._

**_every missed call._ **

**_every canceled event._ **

**_every excuse made._ **

**_every materialistic request._ **

**_every ignorant insult,_ **

**_and the half-assed apology that followed._ **

**_it made her want to_ **

**_scream,_ **

******_scream,_ **

**_scream._ **

_Deep down, (y/n) knew that it wasn't their fault. Was it? Surely these are just things that happen in friendships, are they not? Perhaps she's just overreacting, and perhaps she just lacks the social charisma to understand. And yet, there was just an inkling of her that wanted to believe she was right. That she committed no wrong in the vain of God, for she was virtuous in her ways._

_No, it wasn't (y/n)'s fault. There was no overreacting, no miscommunication._ **_They_ ** _planned it._ **_They_ ** _knew all along, and_ **_they_ ** _used it to destroy her slowly. While she was too blinded by her rose-tinted_ _lense to notice,_ **_they_ ** _didn't stop what was inevitable._

**_they wanted to watch her crumble to the ground._ **

_(y/n) doesn't need any friends. To her, they are simply leeches awaiting their next victim. Nobody truly cares about one another. In all honesty, why should they? It doesn't matter how good of a person you are in the eyes of the universe._ _Everybody dies eventually, so why bother? In the end, it's better to save yourself of the pain and emotional turmoil of building connections that will inevitably break._

_She wished to spend the rest of her life in her dreamscape. Personally, (y/n) didn't have any real goals—no talents, interests, skills—and she didn't mind graduating school to go on with her life at a constant standstill. She'll find an office job somewhere in the center of Sendai, work her 9 to 5 hours, return home to an empty apartment near a quiet town, and repeat the process till she dies. She is content with her future, for there is no other option for her._

**_as long as she was alone, (y/n) was alright with whatever came her way._ **

_Grades didn't matter too much to her. She was known amongst teachers for being a complete slacker. Papers were turned in weeks after the due, or sometimes not even at all. In group projects she would rarely contribute, instead choosing to stare off into the distance while she was in la-la land._

_It irritated the staff to no end, and many suggested having the troublesome (h/c) expulsed. On many occasions she would be sent to the office for the secretary to deal with, to which (y/n) was completely ok with. In all technicality, they weren't allowed to do so—since removing a student from class went against school guidelines—but nobody chastised her teachers. After all, she was arguably the worst pain in their sides out of every troublemaker._

_While students who exacerbated their aggression could be punished accordingly, whatever were they to do with her? She didn't commit any grand sin, and was quite rule-abiding at that, nor did she distract her classmates from learning._

**_composed, civilized, and indifferent to punishment—truly, (l/n) (y/n) was a nightmare of a student to deal with._ **

Which is why she is where she is currently; sitting in the front office in her lonesome. The secretary types away at her desk, glasses sitting on the very tip of her nose. An ugly snarl is visible on her face as she stares deep into the computer's blue screen. The clock ticks every second, filling the silent void that encased the room.

Swinging her legs back and forth, (y/n)'s mind wanders further into the distance. Her fingers subconsciously drum the coffee table beside her.

**tap,**

**tap,**

**tap,**

**tap,**

**tap,**

**tap,**

**tap,**

**tap,**

"Shh!" The secretary raises a finger to her lips, glaring intensely at (y/n). The (h/c)-haired girl glances at the elderly woman, before placing her hands in her lap. She stares at her shoes, looking back at her reflection through the squeaky-clean polish. Her face turns to one of disgust, casting her eyes somewhere else.

_Gross,_ She thinks.

The door to the office's waiting room opened. A hearty laugh, followed by heels clicking against the floor. Turning her head, (y/n) catches a glimpse of the principal as she marches in. With her chin held high and a contagious grin, she approaches the secretary.

"Good afternoon, Nakamura-san!" The joyful woman greeted. "Did you get those papers finished?"

Grunting, the secretary, Nakamura, removes her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Sorry Ima. I've been meaning to, but this damn computer..."

"Oh, well that's fine. Just be sure to have them finished by Friday!" With a soft pat on the back, the black-haired principal turns to face a certain (h/c).

"Here again I see, (y/n)-san?"

The use of her first name didn't bother the girl. She had been in here so many times that the two were practically bound together. It was sad to say that the closest thing she had to a friend was her own principal, and even then it was a stretch.

Nodding, (y/n) gets up from her seat as the older lady motions for her to follow. They make their way back to the principal's office. (y/n) makes herself comfortable in the plush seats, watching as the blinds are drawn to keep out any peeping eyes.

Clearing her throat, Ima settles down into her seat.

"Let me guess, you weren't paying attention in class, were you?"

"No ma'am." (y/n)'s gaze doesn't falter, never breaking eye contact for even a second.

"(y/n)," With an exasperated sigh, Ima runs a hand through her ink-black hair. "You know I care for you. Hell, you're one of my favorite students to ever walk these halls! But I can't help but feel helpless when it comes to you."

She stands abruptly, turning to one of her cabinets. Pulling the handle, she rummages, before pulling out a bright yellow folder. In big, bold lettering, the front read " **(L/N) (Y/N)** ". The (h/c) could only assume that it was her grades that sat in there.

And she was right. With one swift motion, all of the paper contents fluttered out onto Principal Ima's desk. Every sheet was near identical to the rest, straight D's printed in every subject. She wasn't exactly failing, though the line she walked was dangerously thin.

"(y/n),"

At the mention of her name, said girl raised her head to meet Principal Ima's eyes. The older woman had a sort of disappointment in her gaze, mixed with a desperation that immediately soured the room's atmosphere.

"I honestly don't know what to tell you at this point. As much as I try to respect your decisions, It's gotten to a point where your teachers have suggested holding you back from graduating this year."

"What?" (y/n) said, eyes wide. A wave of shock and anxiety washed over her. Her heart rate picked up, knocking softly against her rib cage. With labored breaths, the girl tried to hide her nervousness with an indifferent expression. "What do you mean, it's only September. Graduation is nearly a year away!"

Softening her eyes, Ima sat down once more. "Well, they were throwing around the idea that if you didn't improve your grades substantially by December, we'll have no other option but to keep you another year."

(y/n) wished she could just melt into the ground at that very moment. Her whole future, one perfectly crafted to be within reach, was slipping away faster than she believed.

"On top of that, since you aren't in any clubs currently, you don't have much of an excuse for your grades to have fallen this low."

That was true. However, the girl refused to acknowledge it. Her heart pounded harder, getting faster and faster. She felt faint—weak even—as the sound of her chest created a sick tune in her head.

"I tried to convince them otherwise, I really did!"

_**they lied to you, (y/n).**_ A strange voice said in her head, one very different from her own.

"You have to understand, (y/n), how hard it is to constantly deny facts. I mean, we're only about four months into the year and you're nearly failing. Not to mention that most clubs aren't accepting members anymore."

_**don't you want them to stop?** _

"Look at me, (y/n)."

_**don't you want revenge?** _

"Shut up..." The girl mumbled under her breath.

"(y/n)?"

_**don't you want blood?** _

(y/n) held her head in her palms, the voice's words echoing throughout. "Just shut up,"

"(y/n)??"

**_isn't this what you want?_ **

"(y/n—"

"SHUT UP!" Screamed the girl, standing up suddenly as her chair fell back onto the floor. (y/n)'s face was a bright red, fumes nearly leaving her ears. She stared as Ima jumped back in shock. Her voice alone rattled the trophies in the room, and through the blinds she could see some students trying to peek through the gaps. The older woman had a visible fear in her eyes, tears threatening to fall.

(y/n) wanted to punch her, strangle her, and do many more unspeakable acts against her. Watch her choke under her hold, her face turning paper white. Feel her body squirm beneath her grip. Blood pouring from her wounds, covering the room in a crimson red. The look of despair, of helplessness.

_**you want this.** _

And then, it vanished.

All at once, her anger dissipated. The fury she once held towards her Principal was now replaced with guilt and embarrassment. Her heart dropped, as if she just realized what she did. Shaking, (y/n) felt her weight collapse from beneath her. Hot, ugly tears streamed down her tinted cheeks. Snot ran down from her nose, making her feel even more horrible about herself. The voice in her head was no longer there, just her and her thoughts once more.

Principal Ima quietly lowered herself to the girl's level, cautiously wrapping her arms around her. (y/n) accepted them quickly, burying her face in the crook of the woman's neck.

"I'm sorry," Was all she could say. "I don't know what I was thinking, I just—"

Like a broken record, it seemed as though those were the only words the girl knew. While Ima attempted to reassure her calmly, she also wiped away the tears and snot from her face. She also noticed the strong grip (y/n) held on her, like she would vanish if she let go.

Nakamura opened the door, peeking her head in. With a quick thumbs up, the worried woman hesitantly backed out. Soon enough, (y/n) lessened her hold, and the words she mumbled faded into nothing. The two pulled away and sat for a bit in the middle of the floor, saying nothing to one another.

"(y/n), you know I care about you, right?" Principal Ima asked, gently stroking the student's arm. She nodded, still refusing to look at the ravenette in the eyes. "Then, can you listen to me just this once?"

Hesitant, the (h/c) glanced at her with restraint.

"Starting tomorrow, I want you to join the Boys' Volleyball Club as their manager. You don't even need to improve your grades, but just show your teachers that there is something about you that holds value."

(y/n) furrowed her brows in confusion. She never spoke to any of the guys on the volleyball team, despite sharing a class with one of their regulars for the past two years. And being a manager would take a considerable amount of time from her day. Long nights, early mornings, and probably a few weekends too. To put it simply, she wasn't a fan of the idea.

The older woman must've caught on to her hesitance, quickly swooping in to ease the young girl of her nerves.

"Just for a month, even! Then you can quit, and everything can go back to normal, I promise."

Silence filled the room as the offer wavered. It was an unlikely chance that (y/n) would accept, though Ima was willing to take it. She bit her lip nervously, slowly getting up from the ground. She walked to her desk, carefully organizing each paper at a pace similar to a sloth's.

"I'll do it." (y/n) stated suddenly, causing the principal to suddenly drop her items. With an incredulous look, she turned back towards the teen, who had opened the door and was about to leave.

"Ah, wait—!"

Principal Ima gasped for air in a rather dramatic manner. "You mean it? You'll join the club??"

"One month, then I'm out. Got it?"

"Of course!"

To an outsider, their conversation seemed out of place. A student with a now cool and suave demeanor making a deal with her desperate principal. (y/n) almost snickered at the thought herself. The two said their goodbyes, and soon enough (y/n) was walking out of the school building and on her way home.

_Daydreaming had always been a favorite past time of (y/n)'s. The relief in leaving all the stress of the real world behind was one of her favorite aspects of it. She sometimes became lost in the little worlds she created, immersed in her own fantasy. It was a pleasant experience all the while, and she would willingly become "lost" again if it were in her dreamscape._

_She knew there was a word to describe her feelings, but she couldn't quite pin it down. It was on the tip of her tongue, just barely out of her grasp. If only she could remember what it was, then she'd be completely at peace with herself. Either way, it would provide no use to her with the recent turn of events._

_The daily, systematic events of everyday life were what (y/n) grew to enjoy. In the face of uncertainty, it made her wary and afraid. That was why she rather choose to be alone and create her own universes, ones where she knew the outcome of every action. Where she was in complete control. She knew she couldn't escape reality forever, but she wished to have had at least a little more time._

_Perhaps she was a fool for thinking such, or maybe it was because of the deal she accepted. While she sparingly followed her gut instinct, it almost seemed like a divine entity was pulling her from the outside towards them. An irresistible urge, one too strong to fight or dismiss. But it was only for a month, and after it'll be completely smooth sailing for her._

**_Unfortunately for (y/n), she had no idea that her decision would be one that changed her completely, for better or for worse._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this book is supposed to move pretty fast, so if you're not really into that then this might not be the book for you. though, if you're into smut, then maybe you could wait around until chapter 20.5 and see what happens 👉👈


	4. 𝟎𝟐 / 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> our protagonist has a less-than-pleasant meeting with the volleyball team, meeting two unlikely people along the way.

**(Y/N) WALKED DOWN THE EMPTY** corridor with heavy steps. Her bag felt like a thousand weights on her shoulder, straining her muscles as she trotted onwards. Sunlight poured in through the windows of passing classrooms, illuminating the barren school. Not a soul lingered behind after the final bell, scurrying to wherever they may be needed. Whether it was a club, an after school job, or just the sweet, familiar warmth of their home.

As for (y/n), she simply took her time as she sulked towards the gymnasium. The (h/c)-haired girl considered ditching at the last second, but she didn't want to disappoint Principal Ima. After the events of the day before, her heart swelled with guilt. Her mind replayed the events of the day before on repeat, leaving her unable to sleep. Like a twisted movie, it wouldn't leave her memory no matter how hard she tried.

Eventually, her mind had calmed down and (y/n) was able to go on with her day. Although with noticeable bags under her eyes, nobody made a scene or pointed it out. Sometimes she'd listen in on a classmate's conversation if it got particularly interesting, taking the details in full. Other than that, her day was relatively uneventful. Well, except for one thing.

_The bell for break rang out inside the school. (y/n)'s English teacher quickly gathered his belongings, before walking out of the classroom. Almost immediately afterward, her peers had gathered into small groups together. The (h/c)-haired girl got up from her chair, briskly walking out towards the bathrooms. Another boy left shortly after her, turning at the junction where the vending machines stood._

_When she came back from the bathroom, though, she walked to her desk to find a candy bar waiting for her. The label read_ Kit Kat _, a brand the girl had heard of before. Picking it up, she glanced around the room to see most everyone in their seats. They were deep in conversation, and the girl was only out of the room momentarily, which didn't add up. Eventually, the dropped the topic and sat down. With hesitance, she opened it and started eating the delicious treat. Her stomach rumbled in approval, savoring each bite._

_In her delight, the girl failed to notice a pair of eyes watching her from a few desks away._

_Soon enough, all her classes had come to an end. Students filed out of the classroom in groups, heavy chatter covering the hallways. (y/n) collected her things slightly slower than usual, pretending to be invested in organizing her pens as the last of her classmates left the room. Right before she walked out, however, she noticed the figure of a blond boy passing by her classroom. Locking eyes, the male gave her a snarl as he turned away._

_The interaction alone unsettled (y/n). All the regret of her previous choices began to bubble at the surface, threatening to breakthrough._

As her destination neared, the temptation to just turn around and run away grew. It gnawed at (y/n), pulling the girl in two directions. On one hand, she knew absolutely nothing about the team and their players. They could have some sort of vendetta against her of something for all she knew! She was practically walking blindfolded into a cage of hungry lions, waiting to tear her to pieces.

At the same time, Ima would be less-than-pleased if she found out that (y/n) dipped at the last minute. They had made an agreement, and even though it seemed oddly one-sided, the (h/c)-girl felt as though she owed her principal one. If the events of the day before ever became publicly known, her already non-existent reputation would be for not. She wanted to be a nobody, which she couldn't be if all her classmates knew about the time she almost assaulted their principal.

The door to the gymnasium was tall and wide. It loomed over (y/n), making her look small in comparison. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat. The reality of her situation was just starting to settle, her mind racing. She stood, waiting, for a few moments. Her brain told her to turn around and run, but her feet never left the ground. Imaginary vines wrapped around her legs, rooting her in place.

(y/n)'s lips pressed into a tight line, a disgruntled sound escaping her throat. With slow, methodically placed steps, the girl gently slid the door open. The smell of sweat and heat was pungent, wafting itself into her face immediately upon entering. Resisting the urge to gag, (y/n) straightened her posture and walked further into the gym.

_What a pain... s_ he thought as her eyes landed on Coach Irihata, who sat on the opposing side.

A few of the non-regulars noticed her presence, whispering amongst themselves. Their words weren't rooted in malice or ill-intent, but they were still jarring nonetheless. Even so, a few upperclassmen jumped on their cases and ordered them to resume practice, but not without casting a curious glance at the girl. (y/n) felt a set of eyes staring at her intensely, though when she looked up, nobody met her glance.

Repressing a sigh, (y/n) stood a few feet away from the coaches. Deep in conversation, neither noticed her until Coach Mizoguchi glanced at her. He fell quiet, motioning for Irihata to turn. The older man's face lit up in joy when he saw (y/n)'s face, quickly standing up.

"You must be the troublemaker I've heard so much about. It's great to hear that you've taken an interest in the volleyball club."

The student nodded, despite not having an interest in anything at the moment. She figured this was how Principal Ima managed to score her a position on the team in the first place. It would be best to just go along, rather than correct him on such a tedious subject.

Irihata's grin only widened. "Not much of a talker, huh? Don't worry, the boys aren't nearly as bad as they seem. I'm sure you'll fit right in with us in no time!"

With furrowed brows, (y/n) could only ponder what he meant as he continued his ramble. He handed her a teal tracksuit to wear for the time being (given that she was still only on trial), as well as a pair of gym shoes. Shooing her away towards the locker rooms, the girl could only think back at the interaction with confusion. Even while she was getting changed and placing her uniform in her locker, it never once left her mind for a second.

What did he mean by "fit in"? How could she possibly fit in with a bunch of sweaty, hormonal, teenage boys playing volleyball? Either way, it didn't matter too much. She would be out of here in a month's time, and they would (hopefully) forget about her ever being there.

The tracksuit she was given felt loose around her form, a bit bigger than what she needed. That, or she somehow managed to go down a size since taking Phys-Ed last year. Then again, that was the whole purpose of her diet and training regimen. She wasn't where she wanted to be, in fact, she wasn't close at all. Either way, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she calmly walked out of the locker room.

A line of all the players stood in front of the coaches. Coach Irihata looked over at (y/n), before motioning for her to come closer. When she did, he placed a steady hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch. A strange sensation of warmness emitted from her stomach, like butterflies in a cage. She pursed her lips, willing the feeling to disappear.

_Don't tell me that I have a crush on my coach,_ she thought. _Especially one that's three times my age..._

"This is **(l/n) (y/n)** , a third-year, and starting today she will be on trial to become our manager. She was recommended by our principal, so play nice."

An array of reactions washed over the boys. Some were overjoyed, while others stared at her, looking for an ulterior motive. Not like she could blame them since they did have the man known only as **Oikawa Tooru** on their team. As attractive as he may be, (y/n) never dared to harbor feelings of any kind towards this man. She never had much interest in him, but then again, she never had much interest in anybody in the first place.

A certain cream-puff haired boy was the first to speak up. "Ah, Coach, did you say _(l/n)_?"

(y/n)'s face paled, and the group of rambunctious teens soon quieted down. She usually went by her first name only to avoid questions like these, the kinds that begged her to spill juicy details that she didn't have. It didn't help that it was her mother's maiden name, as the woman insisted that her daughter be the one to live out her legacy. Although she may have meant it in good nature, it worked quite the opposite for (y/n).

"Wait, like that one actress?" Another boy chimed in, his short stature him a distinctive look. After his input, the gym erupted in chaos. Multiple voices talked over one another, contradicting conversations.

"Yeah, her! I didn't know she had a daughter."

"How, though? Didn't her last husband—"

**_(y/n)'s breathing became shallow._ **

"Why do you guys care so much? A lot of actors have children."

"Yeah, but none of them ever go here! Do you think I can ask for an autograph?"

**_Her heartbeat increased._ **

"She doesn't look like (l/n) though."

"Eh, you think so? I can see the similarities in her face."

**_She couldn't feel her hands, numb and cold._ **

"What if they're siblings? Or distant cousins??"

"Wait, guys—"

**_The world around her started to spin. She felt light-headed, and if it weren't for Coach Irihata's iron grip on her she might've fainted._ **

A sudden clearing of a throat was loud enough to be heard amongst the boys. They turned to see Mizoguchi wearing a displeased expression, next to a very uncomfortable (y/n). The girl's face was about as hard as a rock, though a few noticed the way her legs trembled slightly. Irihata breathed out heavily, before handing (y/n) a duffle bag full of water bottles. Shooing her away towards the fountain, he only watched from afar as Coach Mizoguchi began to scold the boys for their insensitivity.

As she walked down the hall, (y/n) felt anger pulsating through her veins. All she could see was red, her breathing labored as if she had just run a mile. Although it wasn't as intense as yesterday, she knew that her temper was being held on a loose leash. It made her furious by how they acted. The way they jumped to conclusions with no sense of dignity for her or themselves, it was almost shameful.

(y/n) took her time in refilling the water bottles. She didn't want to go back into the gym and meet their eyes, filled with pity and sympathy. Even though their assumptions about her father weren't wrong, it still stung nonetheless. That was another thing she hated about her mother and all those like her; when you're well known, nothing is a secret. Everybody feels entitled to your private life, to the point where nothing is even private anymore.

If there was one thing in this world that she hated more than life itself, it would be her mother. Her and her perfect looks, her model physique, her fame, and fortune. It was always her, and her, and her. Whenever anybody talked to (y/n), they never thought that they were speaking to (y/n). They viewed her as nothing more than her mother's daughter. And _God forbid_ she try and make a name for herself, since she will forever be in her mother's shadow.

Her grip tightened around the bottle she was holding, gradually squeezing more and more, until—!

Water shot out from the bottle, spraying (y/n)'s arm. She groaned, crushing the last bits of the bottle and throwing it down the empty hall. Whoever's that was, they could just learn to deal with it. There were probably plenty of extras anyway, she'd just grab one and quickly refill it when she got the chance. She looked over to see the crumpled bottle sitting in front of a vending machine.

Although she never ate at school, or eat in general, there was something refreshing about the candy bar she snacked on at lunch. It was sinfully loaded in calories and sugars, but it also tasted extremely good. She never had much candy as a child, since the sweetness of it always put her off. Whoever put that on her desk must've been extremely lucky in their assumptions of her taste buds, or were very keen on what she enjoyed. Creepy, but also kind of sweet.

Feeling around in her pockets, the girl felt a few coins in one of the pockets. Quickly screwing the lid of one of the last bottles, she approached the large machine. (y/n) scanned her options of various snacks. Her eyes landed on the same candy bar, a _Kit Kat_ , and she pressed its corresponding number shortly after inserting her money. She watched as the crane pushed it out of its row, dropping it down into the pickup area.

(y/n) crouched as she grabbed the sweet treat, also being mindful to pick up the destroyed water bottle and throw it in the trash as she passed. She went to pick up the duffle bag filled with water bottles before a rough looking hand beat her to it.

She jumped, looking up with wide eyes. A boy with messy black hair and thick eyebrows stared at (y/n) lazily, tossing the bag over his shoulder. The girl wasn't sure whether to stop him, or let him do the work for her.

"How long have you been there?" she asked. Her tone was similar to disgust, and she recoiled slightly after the words escaped her. The boy didn't seem to mind, though.

He glanced at her as they walked, "Since you left. Coach asked me to help you carry these back."

At his words, (y/n) felt her soul leave her body. A red hue made its way onto her cheeks, much to the tall boy's amusement.

"I'm **Matsukawa Issei** ," he introduced. "You probably haven't noticed me in class though."

"You're in my class?"

The words had left her mouth before she could stop herself. Obviously he's in your class, smart one! He just said it!! Why was she even talking to him in the first place? She was here on a deal, not to make friends! On top of that, this dude just seemed...well, he didn't seem like anything. Sure, although his mere presence made the girl feel a tad bit safer, that was simply because of his somewhat-intimating form. Right?

Nodding, Matsukawa eyed the candy bar in her hand.

"You like _Kit Kats_?"

(y/n) looked down at the label, reading it once over. She nodded curtly, "I guess. I never had it before today."

The messy-haired boy's eyes widened slightly.

"You've never had a Kit Kat before?"

"Well, I'm not a big fan of sweet stuff." Embarrassed, the girl avoided his eyes. After that, Matsukawa was oddly quiet. Soon enough, they had arrived back at the gym. He followed (y/n) to the bench, where he placed down the water bottles and told her where the extras were, much to her embarrassment. Just as he was about to leave, Coach Irihata blew the whistle and started ordering the boys around again.

"I'll keep that in mind then," Matsukawa said, before quickly jogging towards a few of the other boys.

(y/n) blinked, her mind not fully processing what he meant. Soon enough, though, it settled. Everything started to add up all at once like the puzzle pieces were finally falling into place. The Kit Kat on her desk this morning, the eyes staring at her, and his parting words. It all made sense, but not at the same time. An old feeling resonated in her stomach, one she didn't like in the slightest.

There was only one unanswered question on her mind;

_Why?_

―

Practice went on without too much trouble. When break rolled around, a few of the boys came up and apologized to her directly, to which she accepted with an empty stare. Some of the other players sweat-dropped at her reaction, while one, in particular, gushed about her being like Karasuno's manager beauty. She wasn't sure who that was, so (y/n) just brushed him, and this supposed "manager beauty", off.

Apparently one of the team's members wasn't there that day, so there wasn't a need for another water bottle. To say she was relieved would be an understatement, as she practically deflated as soon as everyone's eyes were off of her. Well, except for Matsukawa's, who chuckled lightly at her reaction.

The rest of the day drawled out slowly, the hands on the wall clock moving at a snail's pace. Coach Irihata decided that today would be a wonderful day for a practice match. So, he swept (y/n) away and briefly explained the scoring process to her (to which she understood none of), before ultimately deciding to have her and one of the first years keep score together.

"Oi, Kindaichi!" Irihata shouted. "Come and take score with (l/n)-san."

"Yessir!"

The boy introduced himself as **Kindaichi Yuutarou** , a first-year nearly 190 cm in height. Although he may not have normally peaked the (h/c)-haired girl's attention by that alone, it was hard to look over his...unique hairstyle. He seemed nervous around (y/n), constantly sneaking glances at her between plays. Anytime the two would make eye contact, his face would erupt in a violent shade of crimson, before turning to look the other way.

(y/n) narrowed her eyes, drilling holes into his form with her gaze alone. _The hell is his problem?_

A shout came from the court, followed by a few calls. Looking over, the two watched as the game progressed. Oikawa called out to another male, setting the ball towards his direction.

Everything after that was a blur; from the way the ball was set at an insanely high speed, to the shouts of warning as it aimed for another player's face, before the deafening sound of his form hitting the ground rang throughout the gym.

The ball bounced off the hardwood floors, rolling away slowly. An uncomfortable silence filled the surrounding air. The coaches rushed over towards the fallen boy, calling out his name. Irihata turned towards (y/n), "(l/n)-san! Get that First-Aide Kit over there!"

He pointed towards a pair of benches, where a white box sat untouched. The girl jogged over nonchalantly, noting the odd discoloration of what seemed to be decades-old blood mixed with a white liquid. The Kit itself looked ancient and beat-up, worn down by the test of time. She picked it up, barely holding it as to not get any of the _strange residues_ on her fingers. If this were any other circumstance, she would've had a light chuckle and make a _very sexually explicit_ joke. However, now was hardly the time, given she most likely just witnessed a murder.

(y/n) handed the First-Aide Kit to Mizoguchi, who held the pinkish brown-haired boy's head in his lap. The boy himself had his eyes shut, an ugly bruise forming on his face. Blood trickled down his nose and chin, staining his white shirt. A few of the other players had huddled around them, watching in a mixture of concern and shock. When left unresponsive, Coach Mizoguchi eventually gave up in trying to wake the unconscious boy.

_Yup, definitely dead._

Coach Irihata let out a strangled noise, gripping the bridge of his nose. He motioned for the boys to get back to practice and ordered Mizoguchi to carry the boy to the benches and treat him there. The (h/c)-haired girl followed him, unsure of her place in this whole mess. The match resumed, with Kindaichi taking score on his own.

"(l/n)-san," The older man said. "Do you know any basics in treating wounds."

When she shook her head, Mizoguchi nodded and told her to watch him. He tilted the sleeping boy forwards, placing a cloth over his nose and holding it down. About halfway through he got up to gather ice from the breakroom. He told the manager-in-training to sit in front of the boy. Gently, the coach guided (y/n)'s stiff hands with patience. He placed one under the boy's head, just above his neck, and the other on the softer part of his nose and instructed her to hold it firmly.

Shortly thereafter, Mizoguchi left to gather the ice. As for (y/n), her body was completely motionless. Rigid and tense, she probably wasn't breathing either. In her defense, the girl was practically straddling a boy she didn't even know. To make matters worse, her arms felt as though they were about to snap. Although (y/n) couldn't help but notice the faint heat radiating off of the boy, and the systematic way his chest rose up and down with his breathing.

_God, (y/n), you sound like a total creep._ The girl scolded herself, trying to carefully move away.

The pinkish brown-haired boy's face was mere inches away from her own, peacefully unresponsive. As she continued to stare at his nose, she noticed the sudden movement in his brows. Before she could move, his eyes opened slightly. Panicked, (y/n) froze on the spot. He must've realized the position he was in, his face warming up moments later. The two stared at one another, the sound of yelling in the background. (y/n) kept her hands in place, unsure of what to do.

"Oh, you're finally awake." Coach Mizoguchi said as he returned. In one hand he held a ziplock bag filled with ice, and a pill bottle in the other.

(y/n) quickly backed away from the boy, keeping the bloodied rag in her grasp. A pink hue crept onto her face before she turned away from the other two. She heard a deep chuckle from her side. "I wouldn't have imagined you to be the flustered type, (l/n)-san."

She repressed the urge to bark back at the older man's words. The boy in front of her shuffled awkwardly, scratching the nape of his neck.

"Anyways," Mizoguchi said, trading places with (y/n). "I was planning on waking you up, but I suppose that isn't necessary."

"Here, take these." The coach held out a hand with a container of pain-killers to the third-year, who accepted them gratefully.

"Ah, thanks. How long was I out?" He asked.

Mizoguchi looked at the clock, "Not too long, about 10-ish minutes. Though, you should pay attention to your surroundings more, Hanamaki."

Hanamaki apologizes sheepishly, a small grin present on his face. After his short lecture, an idea appears in the coach's head.

"Oh! You haven't properly met (l/n)-san yet, have you?"

_To be fair, I haven't "properly "met anyone besides the coaches, Matsukawa, and Kindaichi._ Said girl thought to herself. However, she figured she might as well humor the man and go along with his little introduction.

"No," The pink-haired boy turned to her. "I'm **Hanamaki Takahiro** , nice to meet you (l/n)-san."

"Likewise. Are you feeling better?"

The words escaped (y/n)'s breath seamlessly, their foreign pronunciation sounding strange on her tongue. Although they were meant to be heartfelt, they came across as almost condescending. Hanamaki only smiled weakly in return. "Just about as good as somebody who's just been hit by a volleyball to the face."

He pressed his bag of ice against his forehead, wincing at the cold.

"Oh." (y/n) said, clearly not expecting his answer. "Well, I hope you get better."

Her words were short and concise, which was typical of the (h/c). Mizoguchi only watched in amusement as the two continued to idly small talk. He noted the differences in their personalities and styles. Although both of them were well-versed and had good-manners, their conversation almost seemed fake for how _un-teenagery_ they were speaking.

There was one other thing the older man noted. While Hanamaki was calm and collected, he slowly opened up bit by bit about smaller things, like his class and position. On the other hand, (y/n) stayed heavily guarded. She only repeated the things Hanamaki said and danced around the questions he asked her in return.

Brushing it off, Mizoguchi got up and said he was finished with the two, though he said Hanamaki couldn't practice for the rest of the day. (y/n) contemplated returning to the scoreboard and helping Kindaichi, but for whatever reason her legs just couldn't move.

Maybe it was the fact that she would steal glances at the boy next to her, who reminded her of a certain messy-haired _KitKat_ enthusiast. In fact, the two were extremely alike in mannerisms. They held their tongues and didn't overload her in unnecessary conversation. On top of that, they both held a familiarity around them. She knew for a fact that Hanamaki smelled of vanilla, given her close proximity to him moments before, and had a strong bet that Matsukawa did as well.

But the more she pondered the thought, the more she had to disagree. As similar as they were, she imagined Matsukawa to smell more...warm? Like jasmine, intense and almost sensual. While vanilla was comforting, jasmine was borderline intoxicating in its odor. She couldn't explain why, but the more she imagined the brunet in her mind, the more he seemed to fit the bill crisply—

(y/n) cringed at the thought. She barely knew either of them and here she was imagining what they would _smell_ like. It's not even as though she'll be close enough to get a good smell anyways, so why bother. And on top of that, why should she care about these two in the first place? She's a third-year who's going to graduate in a few months and most likely never see anybody in this damn school ever again. Why should she get attached when she has so little time?

Hanamaki and Matsukawa did not come across as the type of guys that would be comforting. And yet, in the little time she knew these boys, (y/n) felt the strong desire to know more. She wanted to get to know them, learn about their hobbies, their dreams, their goals, everything. And in turn, she wondered if they would be willing to do the same. To be patient enough and give her the time she needed to let her guard down, to break every wall, and give her heart to them in full.

Though, maybe this wish was stupid. Maybe that was all it will ever be; a wish. After all, everyone she's ever let in has taken that privilege and completely rake it through the mud. Who's to say that they won't do the same?

_**But, who's to say they won't be different?** _

The girl cradled her head in her hands. All this deep, philosophical thinking was starting to make her head hurt. As much as she wanted to believe herself, she couldn't bear to do it. For years, she's seen the world through monochrome lenses. Everything was always **black** or **white** , with no **gray** area in between. It was like having the devil perched on one shoulder and an angel on the other. One side would pull at her, telling her that mantra she had;

**_They'll only leave you in the end, so why bother?_ **

While that was true, (y/n) couldn't help but feel a different kind of way towards the familiar saying. It wasn't hatred or disgust, rather an unusual impassiveness. She couldn't say that she agreed with the words anymore, however, she had no real reason to fight against it.

**_To trust or not to trust, that was the question._ **

(y/n) wished there was a clear answer to her problems. However, her wishes hardly ever come true, so to hang on to false hope would be fruitless. Still, she was in a moral dilemma. To allow someone in her walls now would completely make waste of everything she's done for the past two years. On top of it, she couldn't bear to have her heart be shattered one more time.

**_Fool me once, shame on you._ **

And yet, her thoughts kept coming back to those two. Again, and again, and again. It was practically torture, forcing the girl to think of these two men whom she knew for near moments at a time. Perhaps she should listen to herself. Even though they so treated her so kindly, she could only imagine the ulterior motives behind it. Behind their mask, she was sure they were just as bad as the rest of them.

_**Fool me twice, shame on me.** _

But behind what mask? These two didn't have a mask, they were their own, authentic selves from the beginning. It doesn't take a genius to notice that. In fact, perhaps they should be the ones cautious around her. For (y/n) was the one with the past, the one locking her deepest secrets away. No, it wasn't them who had any ill-intent, it was _her_!

She glanced over at Hanamaki, who had left his spot on the bench beside her. He conversed easily with Matsukawa, outside of the girl's ear-shot. The messy-haired boy noticed the stare of (y/n), to which he waved at her. If she hadn't been completely lost in her reverie, she might have noticed the way the ends of his lips curved up into a smile, or how Hanamaki gently nudged him.

Almost shyly, she waved back, before turning away. Perhaps she'd consider letting those two charming third-years into her heart, in exchange for an equal place in theirs. Maybe she was a fool for thinking like this, but what did she have to lose? If anything, this could be considered a learning experience. She threw caution to the wind, willing to jump head-first into a sea of jasmine and vanilla.

Cracks began to form in the wall that surrounded her, and although not completely broken, they were fragile and weak. With enough force, one could kick it to the ground if they had the perseverance.

_Hanamaki, Matsukawa, s_ he felt the ghost of a smile as she watched the two goof around in the distance. _What an odd pair._

_**Fool me three times, shame on us.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're wondering how i actually managed to finish this chapter, it's by listening to madison beer on repeat for 4 hours as i typed this out. am i ok? probably not.


	5. 𝟎𝟑 / 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reader-chan has a bad day. luckily for her, iwaizumi is here to listen.

**GOLDEN SUNLIGHT PEPPERED KISSES ON** the girl's skin, warming her figure. The calm sensation of early-autumn chills sent a ripple of shivers down her spine. A few clouds traveled above, slowly, with no destination in mind.

She laid in the grass beneath her, morning dew dampening her clothing. Her hair became tangled and knotted, messily thrown about. (e/c) eyes stared up at the clear skies, entranced with the marvel that was nature. She lifted a hand, a hand that held no purpose or desire of its own. The girl closed her eyes, immersing herself in the peaceful ambiance.

It was moments like these where she felt the calmest.

"(l/n)-san?"

Jolted awake, (y/n) quickly looked towards the voice. A boy stood a few inches away from her head, holding his hand behind his back. His green eyes stared at hers in concern. "Ah, sorry. Did I scare you?"

A feeling of irritation washed over her as her serenity was interrupted. She shook her head, wondering how long he had been standing there.

_I couldn't even sense his presence...does he really blend into the background that easily?_

"Oh—well, I just came to check on you," he said as (y/n) stared at him with a calculating gaze. "Are you alright? You left so suddenly, I figured you'd want to talk it out..."

The boy's voice trailed. Under the (h/c)-haired girl's watchful eyes, he felt the air around them grow tense.

(y/n) cleared her throat. "Who sent you?"

"Huh? I mean, Coach Irihata asked me to look for you. He figured you wouldn't have left already since it is your third day and all."

She grits her teeth, before turning away.

"Well, I'm fine, so you can go back to practice now." she says curtly. Waving the male off, she returns to her original position as she gazes at the sky.

Instead of walking away as expected, the boy only sighed and sat down next to her. He really didn't understand her, but he figured that if they were to be on the same team, she'd have to learn to get along with them eventually. "I don't think we've been introduced yet. I'm **Iwaizumi Hajime** , from Class 3-5."

Iwaizumi receives no response, only an uncomfortable silence. The wind picks up, brushing cool air on his exposed arms. It trails down his body, giving him shivers.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked, not willing to give up just yet.

She shakes her head, not once sparing him a glance.

Pushing his luck, Iwaizumi tries to pry more and more answers from the girl. He questions her about everything imaginable—friends, family, talents—and is ignored every time. With feigning hope, the brunet decides to look up at the clouds passing overhead.

"Why do you like to watch the sky so much?" With interest, (y/n) glances at him, before looking away just as fast. He would've missed it if he had blinked or been a second later.

She says, "It's calming. It helps me clear my mind when I'm stressed."

"Ah, I suppose that makes sense."

(y/n) hums, turning her head to lock eyes with the boy.

"...You should try it sometime."

The sun shone down on the two, warming their bodies.

Iwaizumi felt as though he stumbled on a goldmine, like finding a diamond in the rough. An opening, just barely visible to the keenest of eyes, stood in front of him. He would be a fool to not take advantage of this moment—of this situation.

Although he came out here with no intention of becoming friends with the painfully introverted (l/n) (y/n), he figured it couldn't be that bad if he did.

"Hey," Iwaizumi presses. "What do you think about the team so far?"

Sitting up, the (h/c)-haired girl stares up at the clouds once more.

"They seem..."

_Rude,_ is what she wanted to say, but she held her tongue. She wasn't quite sure what they were, given she never paid much attention to them. All (y/n) would do was fulfill any duties the coaches asked of her, hand out water bottles and towels during break, and go home when practice was over. So really, she didn't know what to make of them.

"...tolerable."

"That's good to hear. Though, if any of them give you trouble, then you can always come and talk to me." Iwaizumi says with a small smile.

He quickly adds, "Speaking of which, what happened earlier?"

(y/n) glares at the boy, her face contorting to one of disgust. He jumps, holding his hands up defensively.

"Sorry! If you don't want to talk about it, then I won't keep asking. But, it's good to let your feelings out every once in a while."

_Feelings._

She almost scoffed at the boy, though she gave the words some consideration. He wasn't wrong, she knew that very well, but that doesn't mean that she will listen to him. She doesn't have to listen to anyone—never have, and never will.

_But,_ her mind flashed back to her meetings with Matsukawa and Hanamaki. _I suppose it wouldn't hurt to indulge in somebody. Just this once..._

And that was exactly what she did, as she began to recollect her day to the boy, venting her issues to him.

―

_The morning had started gloomy and depressing, with heavy rain falling from the sky. It pelted (y/n) on her walk to school, as if mocking her ignorance for not bringing an umbrella. In her defense, the forecast has said that it would be sunny all day, so it wasn't **technically** her fault._

_She tried to hurry on as fast as she could, but there was a limit to how far she could run without getting tired. Plus, with the slippery concrete beneath her soles, she'd probably trip and fall into some puddle somewhere. Even with this prediction in mind, it seemed as though fate had its way of belittling her._

_**SPLASH!** _

_Her bottom had come in contact with a shallow pool of water. In the empty quiet of her upstate neighborhood, the echoes of her fall rang throughout._ _(Y/n) let out a groan, slowly picking herself up. She had a feeling that a bruise would show up later, but at that point the girl had stopped caring. Her head hung low as she forced herself to walk to Aoba Johsai, in an effort to hide her face to anyone who may have seen her._

God damn it... _she thought to herself, rubbing a cold hand along her cheek. Her fingers were calloused, rough, and possibly wrinkled from all the exposure to water._

_She guessed that her day couldn't have gone any worse. After all, she literally looked as though she had just rolled out of bed, grabbed the most wrinkled, dirty uniform she could find, and went on with her day_ _(which she didn't, for the record)_ _._

_Would anybody believe her is she said she had a rough morning? Maybe, but who would she even have to tell. She knows Matsukawa is in her class, but she barely knows him. (y/n) isn't even sure if she could call him a "friend". I mean, what even dictates friendship anyways?_

_But she doesn't care about friends. No, of course not. She's (l/n) (y/n), the lone wolf, the cynic, the independent. She doesn't need tedious things like friends, they're not a necessity. Her thinking two days ago was a mistake; a fragile, delicate mistake._

_**"Perhaps she'd consider letting those two charming third-years into her heart, in exchange for an equal place in theirs."** _

Heh, yeah right, _(y/n) thought._ Like hell I would do that.

_Still, she couldn't help but wonder how he would react. Would he come and talk to her? Would he ask her about her morning, and let her vent out her frustrations? And if he did, would he care?_

_Needless to say, the girl pushed those thoughts away as she opened the door to Class 3-1._

_When (y/n) entered the classroom, everyone's attention had shifted onto her. The rain-soaked girl felt her chest tighten, and she couldn't hide from the judging glare she received from her teacher. To be fair, there were numerous things that chalked up to the look she received._

_**1\. Class had started ten minutes before she had arrived.** _

_**2\. She was dripping from head to toe, and probably left a trail behind her.** _

_**3\. She was currently failing all of her classes.** _

_In short, there were plenty of things that warranted her very angry teacher. With a sigh, he simply pointed towards her desk. (y/n) walked to her seat, dreading the pitiful silence that hung in the air. She glanced at Matsukawa's desk, searching for comfort, only to find him watching her carefully._

_His eyes widen slightly, before returning to the board as the teacher calls for class to resume. The girl could only sink back in her chair, slightly reassured._ _She played with her pencil, waiting as the minutes ticked by at a snail's pace._

_Eventually, though, the day was over._

_That was until she remembered the club. It was set to be her third official day on the team, and she was sweating like a sinner in church. She hadn't made any particularly strong bonds (besides those of_ _Hanamaki and Matsukawa, which appeared to be a one-sided relationship), and it was starting to show._

_There was a crisp divide that separated (y/n)'s world and theirs. Anybody with a brain could tell it, and the tension in the air remained steady. At practice that day, a bench player had come up to (y/n) and started asking about her mother. Which, in the irrational girl's mind, was a big no-no._

_"My mom?"_

_"Yeah! She's a celebrity, so obviously you know a lot of other celebrities too, right?"_

_"No." she deadpanned, before turning away and organizing some towels on the cart. They would've been fine in their original place, but she needed something to occupy her hands unless she wanted to be convicted of voluntary manslaughter._

_The boy's face faltered. "Oh...why not? I mean, couldn't you just...ask?"_

_On second thought, jail didn't seem all that bad to her. Being locked away from these troublesome pests in an isolated cell, with little to no human contact._

_"Why does it matter to you?" she bit back harshly. "It's not as though you know any of them personally."_

_Ok, maybe she did sound **a bit** entitled there. However, in the heat of the moment, the girl hardly realized the cold wave that washed over the gym. An awkward, tense silence lingered before the aforementioned boy huffed._

_"I was just asking a question, no need to get all defensive."_

_Another boy stepped forward, placing a hand on the former's shoulder. "Hey, chill out dude. We just met her, what, yesterday? You can't just ask stuff like that."_

_(y/n) turned her head towards the voice, only to see Hanamaki chastising the bench player. There was a pit in her stomach, butterflies escaping her chest. The sound of her heartbeat could be faintly heard, pounding against her rib cage._

_She could hear both boys arguing around her, with some other players inserting themselves into the drama. Their words were muffled, slurring together to the point where they were almost inaudible._ _(y/n) felt sudden adrenaline run through her; the urge to abandon ship and run away._

_Her conscious told her to run, but her legs were glued in place. Maybe it was the fear, or perhaps the shock that left her hindered. Cold sweat trailed down the nape of her neck, giving her chills._

Why are you defending me? _she wondered, watching as Hanamaki continued to argue with another boy. At some point, Matsukawa joined in and started to assist his best friend._ I was cold and indifferent when I met you two, and we haven't even spoken since that encounter. So, why?

_Like flood gates, a wave of sadness washed over (y/n), extinguishing the angry flame that once burned brightly. It seemed as though a knife had been plunged deep into her, killing what little self-restraint she had._

_(y/n) turned quickly on her heel, before storming out of the gym. Her vision was clouded over by hot tears. With cheeks a mild shade of pink, she focused on recomposing herself. As much as she wanted to stop her trembling, her emotions were running high._

_She felt like she was balancing on a tightrope over a pack of hungry lions. Her day had been shitty since start to finish, and she wanted nothing more than to retreat to the safe comfort of her bed. (h/c) strands of hair blocked her vision as the wing blew violently around her, tossing her around like a rag-doll._

_The girl felt as if she were stuck in a tornado, only this time it wasn't her who stood at the center of her world. She hadn't felt this helpless in years, and she hated every second of it. What had she done to deserve this punishment? Was it the gods who were disappointed in her, or some other ethereal deity?_

_Her knuckles turned an ashy white as she clenched her fists tighter, still running without direction._

_It was fucked, all of it. (y/n) felt the need to scream at the top of her lungs, but the words couldn't find their way out. She knew she shouldn't have accepted that offer. She should've walked out of that room right then and there, calling that woman crazy on the spot._

_Principal Ima was out of her mind if she thought a damn sports club could make her life any better because, from her perspective, all it did was make things even worse than before. This isn't some shoujo manga where everything magically works in the protagonist's favor. The world doesn't work like that, or at least hers didn't._

_But maybe it did work like that, and she was just a side character. After all, she wasn't half as interesting as most of the others who attended Aoba Johsai. Oikawa Tooru alone is a man who has not only looks but talent and brains as well. He seemed to be a very fitting main character. And, in all honesty, who in their right mind would read a manga about the boring supporting cast?_

_Surprisingly, that thought alone was enough to suppress the anger quelling within the girl. She had no problems being a secondary character. Maybe she just desperately desired to blend in with the crowd and lead a normal, run-of-the-mill life. Even so, playing second-fiddle to the protagonist—whoever that was—was enough for her._

_In the midst of her thunderstorm, a new smell grazed her nostrils. It smelt of uncut grass and summer sun; very masculine, and almost endearing. Unlike Hanamaki's soothing vanilla and Matsukawa's contrasting jasmine (a smell that evokes intensity), this scent fell somewhere along the middle. It was warm and smoky like jasmine, but also held the gentle calm of vanilla._

_Although unusual, it just...smelt right. Jasmine and vanilla, despite both being very attractive smells and alluring in their own right, lacked the balance this new scent had. It gave her pleasant memories of a familiar time, even if she never experienced something like it before._

_In her pondering, she failed to see the winds calm around her. Sunlight coated her skin like a blanket, and a hand reached out towards her. Its grip on her was soft, encouraging. (y/n) may not have even noticed it from how delicately it held her. Like she was made of porcelain, the hand was careful and calculating._

―

(y/n) opened her eyes, not realizing the tear stains on her rosy cheeks. Iwaizumi stroked her arm, in futile attempts of comforting the girl. As she finished her recollection of her day to him, the boy couldn't find the words to say. Although she didn't mention any of the internal monologues (or the smell part, because that's kind of weird), (y/n) conveyed enough of her emotions through her intense story.

She glanced at Iwaizumi, who stiffened under her gaze.

"It's kind of pathetic, isn't it?"

"Huh?" Taken aback, the green-eyed boy lifted his hand from (y/n)'s arm. "What do you mean?"

The girl leaned back, holding herself up with her hands. She stared up at the sky. "I was so dramatic when I left the gym earlier, and for no reason too. The team probably thinks I'm some stuck up, rich brat now."

"That's not true. Everyone has bad days sometimes, and I'm sure they'd be willing to listen if you let them."

"But how can you be so sure? It's not like you—you—!!" Desperate, she stumbles over her words while trying to come up with an excuse.

Iwaizumi deflates. _It's like talking through a wall..._

"To be honest, I'm not sure at all. There's no way for me to know what they think for certain, but I do know that there are more people on your side than you believe."

"...Like who?"

He pauses, thinking back to how he watched the argument from a distance. "Well, I know Makki and Mattsun were doing their best to protect you from Yahaba. After you left, he didn't hear the end of it and I doubt he will anytime soon."

"And it's not just them either. I don't know if I have earned a place as your friend yet, but," Iwaizumi stands up abruptly, before holding a hand out to hear. "Just know that there's always a spot open for you whenever you make up your mind."

The sun glared in her eyes, outlining the wing spiker's body like an ethereal glow. He looked like an angel, or at least some higher being that had come to help her. To save her.

With hesitance, (y/n) grabbed his open palm, pulling herself off the ground.

They stood equal now, face-to-face. Would she disappoint him? What if he got different, better friends? He was already familiar with Seijoh's captain, so he definitely had to ability to up and leave whenever.

Sensing her discomfort, Iwaizumi released his grip, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Ah, sorry. I'm don't think I'm all that good when it comes to advice."

"You're fine," she said. "I—uhm..."

_Come on, just spit the words out! You can't seriously be this awkward can you?!_

"I figured you were more about actions than words, so don't push yourself." Iwaizumi laughed, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he gave her a full smile.

**"Just by letting me listen to you...I think that's more than enough."**

He looked up, before spewing out a sudden curse.

"Shit, practice most be nearly over by now. We should probably head back now, shouldn't we?"

(y/n) barely had enough time to nod as the boy took off running towards the gym. She stood in momentary shock, before jogging after him. Her eyes glanced at the sky above, watching as the moon and stars were visible in the clear evening view. It was no longer periwinkle-blue, but rather a vibrant orange sunset that painted the buildings around her in a golden hue.

Her wall, which sheltered her from the outside world, began to collapse. Someone had taken a sledgehammer and turned every piece to dust. It just so happened that someone was a boy by the name of Iwaizumi Hajime.

She thought back of Iwaizumi. How he seemed to be rather calm and mature in comparison to some of the other boys on the team, and his comforting touch that sent goosebumps all over her skin. But, more importantly than all the others—

_**He smelt of vetiver.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CEO of updating once a month. also, if you couldn't tell already, smells have a huge effect on the story because i'm a sucker for symbolism. so, when it comes to lesser-known smells like vetiver, i have a really fun time matching the characters to their respective smells.


End file.
